Yvette - WitchCraft Dev First Sabbath

[18:15] Phobos was easily the most out of place as while Sibylle was speaking he was too busy admiring the building they stood in. Twirling around taking in his surroundings. Looking at the many demons that reside in this place and such. It was quite the area.

His attention was earned at the mention of Amalia. He suddenly stopped taking in what was being said in such.

Right.

This is a Sabbath.

Unfortunately Phobos didn't carry daggers he did his offerings with his own hands. As his fingernails glide across his wrists, threatening to break skin. "Praise to thee." Were the only words the young man had to say at the moment. It was probably best, he was still in awe at the sight of demons and such.

This was very much his element, he loved this place already.
(Phobos)
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[18:15] A little preface before they got to business. Unneeded for the most part but always nice to hear. The praising and all that. Upon the instruction, and everyone else APPARENT hesitation in doing so, she lifted up her hat and reached into it. Out she pulled a sheathed ritual dagger, or an athame as they called them here.

They had other names elsewhere but that was irrelevant. "Mhm..." Pulling the blade out of it's small sheathe and presenting a blade that had a certain shine to it. None of that nasty stuff like died blood or lingering guts.

She was a artificer, and a blade that couldn't do it's job and piercing the skin wasn't one she wanted to use. That was for sure.

"The rest of you, if you would? Praise to thee, and all that of course..."
(Sushila)
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[18:17] Lemuria, naturally, unsheathed her ceremonial dagger- the same one that she always had on her- ready to use it.

Aside from that, however, she remained silent.
(Lemuria Augustus)
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[18:19] Versail was by no means an active participant in their ceremony. Though his role proved to be quite blatant when his slit gaze settles upon the many faces present. He'd garnered an interest towards many of the cultures which took place midst Esshar, and this one had hardly proved to be an exception.

Taking a seat, he crosses his legs and plants his hands within his lap. With how quiet he was, it'd been safe to presume that Versail was here to stay, unless a more pertinent task were to pull him elsewhere.
(Versail)
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[18:20] So this was a Sabbath, truth be told Daemia hadn't really been to one before despite constantly bothering Sushila like that of a needy child. But now was the time for learning, so for the most part she stood deathly quiet behind her favourite apostate!

In order to mimic Sushila and the other witches present, Daemia shoves a hand into her satchel and searches out for a knife-like object and she manages to pull a shiv! It'd serve the same purpose as that Athame that Sibylle wielded.

But other than that, she just holds it menacingly, watching the event unfold before her.
(Daemia Hexis)
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[18:21] She'd arrived in the fortress with some slight trepidations after all it was host to a horde of man-eating demons. Though, as they arrived their attention shifted from the surroundings wholly upon the event itself.

Of course once the word Athames had been stated she'd just blink. Was she supposed to have one of those? Eurya had never said she needed one really. Then again her Master had vanished nearly a year ago and hadn't been seen since.

There was a few moments of thought as she pondered how to handle that little issue. Though she'd beaten enough people into a blood pulp with her fists. Glancing over as someone she'd only seen once before racked his nails across his flesh.

Oh, well that worked but it wasn't her thing. She'd reach into her traveling bag, pulling forth a simply skinning knife, a handle made of elk-horn, and a blade sharpened to a razors edge. That should do it!
(Yvette Eldergrove)
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[18:23] The Knight would simply stand back, no knife drawn. He would murmur something vaguely agreeable as the Sabbath began but Cyrus was no witch. Not even a worshiper of the lord of Helheim.

Still, he was curious to see the local variants of witchcraft.
(Cyrus Kerberos)
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[18:29] As the others prepared themselves, gathering what they wished to in order to draw blood, Sibylle turned to that bowl which had been conveniently placed. Tilting her head back, she held the dagger up on high - allowing the light of the tower to glint across it's ruddy exterior briefly before she brought it down.

The palm of her hand was sliced open thusly, and red blood trickled outwards, down into the bowl. Drop by drop it collected, her head still back, eyes staring ceilingward. Out from her lips slipped the same language she had used to invoked the ritual in which she had located the initial Indras Shard. It was a babbling, nearly incoherent language - the others present were not expected to copy it naturally, unless they wished to.

"Khvala tebe, gospodin tvoy v Khele." She began chanted, as her blood continued to fill the bowl. Those glowing blue hues that had taken over her brown ones transformed into something far, far more sinister. Completely black, no light in them whatsoever.

Carefully, that bowl which Sibylle had already dropped her own blood into began to rise. It was uneven, and slow, but it did eventually make it's way slowly to those participating. To allow their own blood to mingle.

"Nash Master v Khele, proklyato imya tvoye. Tvoye Tsarstvo pridet, tvoya volya budet sovershena v Eternii, kak v Khel'kheyme." She continued, Occultic miasma rising from her body.

"Dayte nam v etot den' svoye yezhednevnoye blagosloveniye i blagoslovite nas za nashi dolgi, poskol'ku my takzhe proklinali nashikh dolzhnikov. Vedi nas v iskusheniye i izbav' nas ot pravednosti."
(Sibylle)
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[18:39] Suppose at the moment the ritual started, she had to just wait from there one. She was like second or third in the line or something. Who actually knew. There wasn't meant to be much order to these. Though, while she waited, listening to the delightful infernal the girl spewed out of her mouth... she was looking for a napkin of some kind as well.

There was no intention to repeat after her, and she was mostly just finding a way to preoccupy herself that didn't make it look like she was bored... such as playing around with her dagger. Also, that might've made her spill a little blood earlier since hers was sharpened as hell.

When the bowl finally reached her, she held her hand over the bowl with her hues long due turning a pale color and slashed her own palm to allow a questionable amount of blood into the bowl that made her feel a bit woozy moments after. She swished and swung the blade a bit to get any lingering blood off.

Than she closed her palm to slow any more blood from leaving the wound.
(Sushila)
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[18:41] The words echoed outwards but she couldn't place a meaning to them. That was worrisome but what she could see was that it'd be an offering to the Shaytan of Helheim. This was who Eurya had spoken of so often.

That was a really easy thing to understand. Well, if this ceremony involved parting with a little blood that wasn't so bad. She'd make up for what she lost later! Sienna hues followed that bowl closely.

Though, she didn't really know if there was anything specific to all this so, she'd try and learn the only way she knew how. Watching another perform the feat and attempting to replicate it.

Already her tongue was starting to shift around in her mouth, mimicking the way in which it would have to bend in order to replicate Sibylle's voice. Of course replication of the sounds wouldn't help so instead she'd just...

Ah this was a bad idea for someone who'd not yet delved into the art of Witchcraftyet. So, when the bowl arrived the teen just brought a blade up to her hand, slicing it open and letting the warm blood flow into the bowl. Which... Was pretty good cause that's all the other person did she was watching! A cocky smile settled upon her features.
(Yvette Eldergrove)
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[18:45] The gremlin waited and watched, she hardly understood the witches' ways as they committed to a dark ritual but the language that Sibylle spoke? Even if it was nearly incoherent, even if it was babble! It was something that sung to her core on a level that was incomprehensible.

Attempting to mimic Sushila, Daemia swings the shiv in her hand down upon her other hand; the dull blade managing to snag her flesh just a little, to allow a trickle of tainted blood to ooze out from the wound.

Before it quickly seals, should the bowl be passed infront of her, Daemia allows some of it to drip into it!

There, she had done her part even if she herself knew not of these rites or rituals.
(Daemia Hexis)
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[18:46] Cyrus Stood back and watched as the other humans worked together, the ritual intriguing to watch. But he did not offer his blood to the bowl when it passed, the knight simply passing letting it pass onwards.

He had a Lord, and would not give homage to another.
(Cyrus Kerberos)
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[18:51] As the others deposited their blood within the bowl and it was finished, it slowly and unevenly floated back to place itself upon where it had been previously. Those blackened eyes of the Witch still gazed ever upwards, before suddenly her head snapped forward, that Infernal language switching immediately to the more common the two brands of Witches shared.

"Praise to you, Satan! in the heights you lit,
And also in the deeps where now you sit,
Vanquished, in Hel, and dream in hushed defiance
O that my soul, beneath the Tree of Silence
Might rest near you, while shadowing your brows,
It spreads a second Temple with its boughs."

She brought her arms up, Occultic mana still leaking her from before finally, her hands were brought together, clasped in mocking prayer. Unlike those of the Church of Esshar, Sibylle's hands were most decidedly upside down. A direct mockery of their ways as only a Witch could.

All at once, that mana slowly died away, disappearing without a trace before she turned. Blue eyes were once more present and she offered a cocky grin towards those assembled before a bow was offered.

"I thank you, my Sisters and my Brothers, for helping both of the Covens unite in this singular moment!"
(Sibylle)
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[19:00] Postface. The conclusion of the Sabbath was near at hand with all those willing to give blood do so. Even the Apostate's scout who was behind her. No idea how that'd affect the rite but hopefully it wasn't for the worse.

As the witch spoke, she was making a few crackles and pops around the hand with the slashed palm. Not loud enough to distract what was being said, which she was, of course, was listening to but not silent enough to go unnoticed by the people around her. She was really just cauterizing the wound carefully.

By the end, the feeling of occultism had faded enough that the smell was quite literally visual in the form of a miasma. When Sibylle looked towards those present, Sushila herself was just cleaning the dagger used.

There was no need for a "Your Welcome" or anything like that, right? She noticed that was a courtesy about here when one offers thanks.

"It's a non-issue, there's no point of thanks."
(Sushila)
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[19:02] This was the culmination of it then? Well she'd no problems offering up praise to the Dark Lord, after all his servants had done more for her than anything out of Theria.

She didn't quite speak the words of prayer that Sibylle spoke aloud. Believing them to be something only those initiated had the right to declare just yet. However, towards the end of her prayer the teen would nod her head.

"Praise thee."

Spoken softly almost a whisper towards the dark lord who'd ruled in the realms beyond. Her hands clasped together and pointing downwards. A soft hum escaping her lips as occultism flared within her circuitry.

Though the emotions fueling it where less powerful than what she was used to. Allowing her mind to remain calm as she spoke. Then her attention returned to the group watching those gathered as they finished there own praise.


(Yvette Eldergrove)
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[19:04] The ignorant little gremlin was in awe! Never had she been involved in a Sabbath, but this was something that she had now experience of! Maybe now, she might be able to aid her favourite apostate some more in the future, to become even more useful.

Nonchalantly, Daemia tosses the shiv over her shoulder to clatter on the floor; it had served it's purpose and she could probably find a better knife someplace else or get one from Sushila later. All that mattered to Daemia was the thick palpable sensation of occultism that had hung in the air during the ritual.

It was pleasing for the small demon.

"Praaaaaaise theee."
(Daemia Hexis)
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[19:05] Sibylle says, "...."
[19:05] Sibylle says, "Well!~"
[19:05] Sibylle says, "We're done now."
[19:05] Sibylle exclaims, "You all can scatter, yes yes!"
[19:05] Sushila says, "Back to work than. Farewell."
[19:05] Sibylle says, "Thaaanks!~"
[19:05] Daemia Hexis exclaims, "Yes-yes!"
[19:05] She skipped over the water, landing next to Douma, quite happy.
(Sibylle)